


The Breakaway

by CoffeeWithConsequences



Series: 82 Games [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Awkward First Times, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Talking, Virginity is a Social Construct, talking about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: The first time, when it finally came, was awkward. They’d both built it up into something spectacular in their minds, after dancing around each other for so long. Later, when they could be honest, they’d both admit it didn’t live up to what they’d dreamed. It wasn’t any wonder--neither of them really had the kind of experience that would make what they were trying to do work right out of the gate. All Bitty knew was just how little he knew. Jack had done it all before, but it had been a long time, and with a mind and body and heart that felt so foreign now that it may as well have belonged to someone else.The first time doesn't have to be perfect to be perfect.





	The Breakaway

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thank you to [QueenThayet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/profile) for her amazing beta read. This is so much better because of you!

The first time, when it finally came, was awkward. They’d both built it up into something spectacular in their minds, after dancing around each other for so long. Later, when they could be honest, they’d both admit it didn’t live up to what they’d dreamed. It wasn’t any wonder--neither of them really had the kind of experience that would make what they were trying to do work right out of the gate. All Bitty knew was just how little he knew. Jack had done it all before, but it had been a long time, and with a mind and body and heart that felt so foreign now that it may as well have belonged to someone else.

Kissing was good, from the day of graduation on. It was a little bit uncomfortable, with Jack craning his neck down and Bitty standing on tiptoe, but it worked. Jack started out slow, cognizant both of his partner’s inexperience and the potential magnitude of this relationship. It was a test of his ironclad self-control, but Jack didn’t want to overwhelm Bitty. Bitty had no such compunctions and licked between Jack’s lips almost immediately, eager and ready and warm and willing. They met each other halfway, and it didn’t take long for either of them to let their fears slide away. 

That first day, kisses were all they had time for. They kissed, then again, then again, and then Jack had to go. For weeks afterward they studiously avoided any mention of their fledgling physical relationship. They texted every day, and Skyped most days, but they both avoided the subject. They were both thinking about it--frustrated and wanting, each thinking of the other while they touched themselves--but neither of them said a word.

They both knew they should talk about it. They knew that was the mature thing, talking about it first. Knew that it would be smart to be sure they were on the same page before they saw one another again. Once they’d set up Jack’s 4th of July visit, Jack started to broach the subject, but lost his nerve, segueing into a funny story his mom told him, his cheeks starting to heat up. Bitty knew where he’d been going, had already begun to steel himself to admit his total lack of experience, but didn’t swim after the subject when Jack let it drift away.

When Bitty picked Jack up at the airport, they hugged for an almost comic length of time. They couldn’t keep their eyes off each other as they walked to the truck, but they forced themselves to stay an acceptable few feet apart. As soon as the truck doors closed, though, Bitty threw himself at Jack, and Jack caught him with grateful surprise. Even with the truck’s console in the way, kissing was easier sitting down. The kiss heated up fast, their initial chaste press of lips forgotten nearly as soon as it happened. Jack rocked his body, reminding himself not to go too far with this, to wait for Bitty’s lead, to make sure he was on board. He wrapped one hand around the back of Bitty’s head, stroking his neck, but made sure to keep his touch light. 

Bitty’s nerves battled with this excitement. He’d spent so long wanting this, first in general, and then from Jack specifically. Now that it was here, all he wanted was more. He clutched the front of Jack’s shirt in both fists, pulling him closer. 

The kisses in the truck would have seemed so awkward, had anybody been watching. These two men, clearly enamored with one another, one pushing in, unsure where his hands were supposed to go, the other with one hand pressed hard beneath his thigh, the other hand with a touch so tender it seemed more appropriate for a child. Both of them trying so hard. But they were heady with their first chance to touch in weeks, and their kisses were for them, not for observers. 

When they finally left the airport parking garage, it was with half erections and buzzing lips. They made a few minutes of conversation so stilted it should have belonged to other people, and then, finally, they had to talk about it.

“Bits,” Jack started, licking his lips and hoping words would somehow find him. “I want you to know that there’s no pressure. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Bitty glanced over at him, then returned his eyes to the road. “What makes you think I don’t want to?” The back of his neck was reddening, but his face looked resolved. “I can assure you, Mr. Zimmermann, that I very, very much want to.” He glanced over again. “But if you don’t, honey, that’s OK too.”

“Oh, no,” Jack shook his head. “I do. It’s just...I don’t want to move too fast for you.” He knew how awkward it sounded, but it was the best he could do.

Bitty smiled ruefully. “This is the part where I admit my complete and embarrassing virginity, ain’t it?” The blush from his neck had crawled up to his cheeks now. He was adorable.

Jack pulled one hand from under his thigh and reached across the seat, letting it fall on Bitty’s bare thigh, below the hem of his shorts. He let the electricity and warmth of the touch shoot through him before he responded. “Bud, however much experience you do or don’t have, it doesn’t matter at all to me.”

Bitty shook his head. “That’s good, I guess.” He glanced down at Jack’s palm against his thigh and smiled a small smile. 

“We can absolutely take it slow, let you get used to...things.” Jack knew it was the right thing to say, and it was what he wanted to say; he didn’t want Bitty to be uncomfortable, or for things to move any faster than made him happy. He also knew that it was going to be damn near impossible for him to be this close to Bitty for several days without wanting to touch him every minute. He could do it--and he would--but damn, he didn’t want to.

Bitty sighed, considered, then spoke. “Jack, I’m kinda tired of taking things slow. I’ve been waiting for a long, long time. You’re gonna have to lead on this, because I truly have no idea what I am doing, but I want…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Jack’s pulse quickened, but he forced his voice to remain steady. “You want?”

“I want.” Bitty shook his head and inhaled sharply. “I want...everything. I want everything I’ve been imagining. I want the things I don’t even know how to imagine yet. I want you, any way, every way.” He was beet red now, eyes intent on the road. “And I want it right now.”’

Jack made no attempt to stop the shudder that ran through him. “Câlice,” he muttered. “OK.”

“Is it?” Bitty didn’t look at him. “I mean, I know you kinda...don’t really do this stuff.”

Jack’s brow wrinkled and he looked at Bitty with some confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like, hook-up?” It was so rare for Bitty not to know what to say.

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, Bits, I do. I just don’t make an announcement about it.” He paused. “And I don’t do it, like, a lot. But this isn’t that, anyway. We’re...together, right?” Jack swallowed his panic. He knew they were together. They’d talked about that at least. 

“Yeah, of course,” Bitty said immediately. “I just dunno really know what that means, as far as...sex stuff.”

Finally, one of them had actually said the word. That had to be progress. Jack drew in a deep breath and remembered his therapist, chiding him gently that he could only expect people to know what he wanted, what he needed, if he told them. “Bits, I want you. I want anything you’re OK with. All the stuff I said about going slow is true--if that’s what you need, then that’s what we’ll do. But if it’s not?” He shook his head. “I’ve been taking cold showers for weeks. My stick is on the ice.”

Bitty burst out laughing. “Jack Zimmermann, did you just use a hockey sex pun?”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Eh?” He shrugged sheepishly. 

It was nice to have the tension broken. They changed the subject after that, and were once again able to talk to each other easily. It wasn’t until Bitty was pulling into the driveway of a small, neat house that Jack felt his anxiety start to rise again. He knew Bitty wasn’t out to his parents, that Jack was visiting as his friend from Samwell, and not as his boyfriend. He honestly hadn’t given much thought to how strange that might be until this very moment. In the back of his mind, he’d spent the whole drive picturing getting out of the truck, pushing Bitty up against it, and not trying to keep his hands still when they kissed. But that couldn’t happen. Jack took a deep breath. This might be more of a challenge than he’d expected.

It both was and wasn’t difficult. Bitty’s mother, Suzanne, was just as charming and easy to get along with as her son. She talked Jack’s ear off from the moment they walked in the door, sitting him down with a glass of (too-sweet, way, way too sweet) iced tea and asking for every detail of his flight, his new apartment in Providence, his new team, his parents, and so on. She interjected with her own stories, unbothered by Jack’s complete ignorance of the people about whom she was speaking. Still, it was nice--Jack didn’t have to carry any conversational weight with her. 

Bitty’s dad, the infamous Coach, was a bit more difficult. He was quiet and seemed slightly suspicious. Jack watched his interactions with Bitty closely. Though Bitty had never really said anything bad about his father, Jack knew Bitty’s fear of disappointing Coach was hard on him. Fear of disappointing your father was something Jack knew quite a bit about, but he couldn’t imagine how it would be possible here. Who could be disappointed to have a son as wonderful as Bitty?

The first night, Coach didn’t say or do anything to raise alarm bells in Jack’s head. He asked politely about the other Falconers prospects, talked a bit about the football team he’d be coaching in the fall, and asked if Jack was interested in baseball. They spent a long time discussing the Braves’ roster. It was the kind of conversation Jack could make in his sleep. 

Both of Bitty’s parents went to bed fairly early. Everything seemed to happen a bit on the early side here--dinner at six, in bed by 9:30. “They get up early,” Bitty explained. He and Jack were putting away the last of the supper dishes. “Mama works the early shift at the nursery in the summer, and Coach has conditioning with his players before it gets too hot.”

Jack watched as Bitty stood on tiptoe to return a serving bowl to a high shelf. Without meaning to, he came up behind him, putting his arms around Bitty to take the bowl and place it on the shelf. “Show off,” Bitty muttered, but he let his body relax against Jack’s for a moment. 

After an entire afternoon and evening of trying to suppress his glances and clenching his fists to resist reaching  out, Jack let himself feel Bitty against him. Jack breathed him in, the scent of his hair and the line of his back. Bitty wiggled slightly, pushing his ass back, and Jack drew in a hard breath.

Bitty pulled away and escaped under Jack’s arm, his face already pink. “We can’t do this here,” he said. “They might not be asleep.”

Jack nodded. Of course. Stupid of him. “Sorry,” he said.

“No, God no. Just…” Bitty looked around as if he was trying to come up with a plan. “Just let’s wait a bit and go upstairs,” he finally said.

“Sure,” Jack replied, keeping his voice calm.

They watched TV for about an hour. It was some cooking program, but Jack barely registered it. Bitty was close to him on the couch, sneaking glances at him every few minutes. After a while, a small, hot hand rested on Jack’s bare knee. It felt like a tiny fire.

“Do we need to talk more?” Jack asked. His voice was low and thick. “About...what you want?”

Bitty giggled, then looked chagrined for having done so. “I thought I was pretty clear about that,” he said.

“I meant more...specifically.” Jack thought back to Shitty, lecturing the frogs, telling them they had no right to try to engage other people in acts they couldn’t even bring themselves to talk about openly. 

Bitty read his mind. He groaned. “You’re thinking of a Shitty lecture right now, aren’t you?”

Jack chuckled and nodded. “Yep.”

“OK.” Bitty turned away from the TV and met Jack’s eyes. “I haven’t ever done anything before. I know what I like when I do it,” he blushed furiously, “but I have no idea what I like when...anybody else does it. All that I know I want is for you to touch me.” His hot little hand squeezed Jack’s knee hard. “I really, really want you to touch me.”

Jack drew in his breath, but before he could answer, Bitty continued. “And I want to touch you. I want…” another bushing pause, then a resolved expression, “I want to suck you. I don’t know how, but I want to learn. I even…” he trailed off into embarrassed silence.

“You even?” Jack’s voice was a whisper. 

“I even want you inside me,” Bitty said, rushing the words and looking down at his lap. “If...if you do that.”

Jack exhaled. He hadn’t even been aware he was holding his breath. “Yeah,” he said, voice still barely audible. “Yeah, I do that.”

Bitty looked up at him then, still blushing furiously. “Can we please stop talking about this and go upstairs now?”

Bitty’s bedroom door had a lock. Jack turned to check it, to twist it and then tug on the knob to make sure, just as soon as they got inside. Bitty smiled. “Mama wasn’t sure why I wanted that, when I was 13. Luckily, Coach was on my side.” 

Jack laughed, thinking of adolescent Bitty, arguing for privacy. “Luckily,” he murmured, moving towards Bitty, his hands already outstretched.

They stood in the middle of Bitty’s childhood bedroom, with the patchwork quilt his Mama made and the Beyonce posters and the skating trophies, and they kissed in a new way. Hot and hard and leading. Jack ran his hands up and down Bitty’s back, feeling the knobs of his spine under the thin cotton of his tank top. He waited only a moment before letting his hands slide further, cupping Bitty’s ass over his shorts. Bitty squealed into his mouth in surprise.

Jack pulled away, grinning, unable to resist the chirp. “Been doing your squats, eh?”

Bitty pushed him playfully, one hand spread wide over his chest. “Chirp, chirp. We can’t all have the famous Zimmermann behind.” Then Bitty’s eyes widened, clearly realizing what he could now do.

Jack watched his expression for a moment, not sure what it meant, and then read it and laughed. “Yeah, Bits, go ahead,” he murmured, grabbing the hand on his chest, as well as Bitty’s other hand, which was resting loosely on his hip and wrapping them around him. Still chuckling, he pushed Bitty’s palms down to rest over the swell of his ass. “Better?”

“Good gracious,” Bitty muttered, reaching up with his face again to meet Jack’s lips. His hands moved, learning the muscles underneath them, kneading gently. “Yes.”

Eventually, Jack’s neck was sore from leaning down, and Bitty was tired of standing on tiptoe. “Come here,” Bitty ordered, taking one hand reluctantly from Jack’s ass and twining the fingers together, pulling him toward the bed. Jack followed willingly. Bitty sat down, looking unsure again, as if he didn’t know where to put his hands or his legs. His erection was clear through the cotton of his shorts. Looking down, Jack was unsurprised to find himself in the same state.

“So, the things you said you wanted to,” Jack asked, sitting down close to Bitty, his legs hanging over the bed’s edge. “Do you want to do them all...tonight?” 

Bitty laughed. “Yes,” he said. “But that’s probably not the best idea. That last one...might need to work up to that.”

Jack smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” He reached over and tilted Bitty’s chin up so he could meet Bitty’s eyes. “For tonight, can I just...can I touch you? All over?”

Bitty shivered. “God, yes,” he said. “If I can do the same to you.”

Jack stood and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Bitty was watching him with wide eyes. Jack was momentarily insecure, his gaze flitting down to his chest.  _ Don’t be ridiculous, Zimmermann _ , he told himself.  _ You know you look good. And it’s not like Bitty’s never seen you shirtless before. _

“Oh my,” Bitty said, his gaze hot. “It’s different when you’re here and you’re shirtless for me. Not the same as a locker room at all.”

Jack grinned. He knew exactly what Bitty meant. His mind made a brief and unwanted trip into the past, to the first time Kenny had pulled his shirt off, bearing a chest Jack had seen a hundred times, but never like this. He pushed the memory away. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Now you.”

Bitty complied immediately, pulling the tank top over his head and tossing it aside. His chest was slim and muscled. The tan Jack had noticed as soon as he saw Bitty in the airport was unbroken. Jack reached out and ran a finger lightly down the center of Bitty’s chest. “Been sunbathing, Bits?”

Bitty smirked. “Wanna see the tan line?”

“Hell yes.” Jack pulled Bitty up off the bed until he was standing just inches away, their knees touching. He reached for the waistband of Bitty’s shorts. “This OK?”

“God, yes,” Bitty confirmed, putting his own eager hands over Jack’s to help push them down. “Please.”

After Bitty’s shorts were off, he laid on his back on the bed. Jack looked at him for a long minute, letting his eyes run over the golden skin of his chest--nearly hairless--and down the sparse, dark blonde trail over his navel. His stomach was all hard muscle, more definition than Jack would have thought. He wore briefs, tight across his hardness, the waistband slightly pulling away. 

“You just gonna look at me?” It was meant to be a chirp, but Bitty’s voice was breathless. 

Jack pulled his eyes back up to Bitty’s flushed face. “For a minute, yeah.” He smiled. “Fuck, Bits, you’re...wow.”

Bitty laughed self-consciously. “I’m hardly the wow in this room.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to take those off, or do I need to do it?” He gestured toward Jack’s shorts.

Jack pulled his shorts off quickly, nearly tripping over the waistband as he stepped out of them. He felt awkward, suddenly too large, still standing, but Bitty was lying in the middle of the bed, so he wasn’t sure where to go. Bitty didn’t notice his discomfort, his eyes wide and hot. 

“Good Lord, Jack.” Bitty had spent two years studiously not looking at Jack’s bare skin, and now that he was allowed, he didn’t think he could ever stop. Jack was his opposite--pale skin, dark chest hair, solid muscle. He wore boxer briefs, and like Bitty’s, they pulled tight across an erection. What looked to be a pretty damn substantial erection.

Bitty was blushing again (still?) as his eyes came back up to Jack’s face. “Um...I definitely think we’re gonna have to work up to that last thing.”

Jack was briefly unsure what Bitty meant. “What last thing?” His brow furrowed.

Bright red, Bitty gestured helplessly in the general direction of Jack’s crotch. “That’s...you’re...big.”

Jack bit his lips to keep from laughing, then sat down on the bed, close to Bitty. His thigh was hot against Bitty’s rib cage. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said, shrugging. “Like I said, no rush.” He reached out a reverent hand and began to trace the lines of Bitty’s abdominal muscles. 

“Can I see the rest?” Jack’s hand seemed to make Bitty braver, and he reached tentatively for the waistband of Jack’s underwear. “All of you?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He lifted his hips and pulled his underwear down, then kicked them off. 

Before Bitty could even get a chance for a proper look, Jack was reaching for his underwear, pulling them down. Jack’s movements were not so graceful as they usually were--there was more jerky uncertainty than Bitty had ever seen in his hands. It occurred to him, belatedly and amusingly, that Jack really might be just as nervous as he was.

Once they were both naked, they stared at each other. Each of them felt shy under the other’s gaze, but neither of them could stop their own inspection for long enough to care. Bitty ran a finger down the trail of dark hair at Jack’s navel, stopping just above the tip of his cock. Jack traced Bitty’s hipbone, ran his thumb down the crease where his leg met his body. The noises they made were quiet, tentative. The cicadas chirping outside and the air conditioning blowing from the vents were enough to cover them. 

Of course, no matter how much they both wanted it to be perfect, and no matter how hard they were trying to go slow, to be respectful, to be sure, there was still months of desire built up between them. Soon they were kissing again, hard and fast, with hands exploring much more confidently now. Bitty pulled Jack closer to him, half on top of him, and ran his hands down Jack’s broad back and over his ass, thumbs digging into the dimpled sides, fingers brushing the bottom of each cheek. Jack pulled Bitty’s head in closer and moved down to suck at his neck, pushing against his thighs with his hard cock. They pushed and pulled at each other as if the only thing that mattered was being able to get just a little bit closer.

Bitty let out a strangled noise when Jack shifted his weight. Jack stopped, immediately concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

Bitty’s eyes were wide. “No, Jesus, no. My...you’re…” He gestured downward mutely. Jack realized the shift of his weight had caught Bitty’s now-wet cock between their bodies. “Please, Jack…”

Jack moved back a bit, then reached for Bitty, taking his cock in hand. Bitty repeated the noise, his hips lifting up. “Is this alright?” Jack asked.

“God, yes, don’t stop.” 

Jack went slow, concentrating completely on Bitty’s reactions, on learning what he liked. Bitty telegraphed everything, not so much talking as exclaiming, in whispered rushes of words. “Oh God yes, honey, like that. Right there. Your thumb, oh Jesus. Yes!” 

There was no lubricant. The lights in the room were on and shone down on them hard. There was no music. Jack’s feet were going to sleep from the way he was holding himself off Bitty, so as not to crush him with his greater weight. Nothing was perfect, but it was all so, so good.

“I can’t last,” Bitty admitted, squeezing his eyes shut. “I want to, but…”

“It’s OK,” Jack said, moving his fist more quickly. “Don’t try to stop yourself.” Before he’d even finished his sentence, Bitty was spilling over his fingers, whisper-groaning, his hips chasing Jack’s hand.

Bitty drew in a ragged breath. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. That was like, twenty seconds.”

Jack grinned. “Nah,” he said. “It was at least thirty.”

Bitty laughed and attempted to punch Jack’s thigh, missing by several inches.

Jack held up his hand with a questioning expression and looked around the room. “Do you have...tissues?”

Bitty groaned again, mortified. His come was all over Jack’s hand. When he’d thought about this--and oh, had he thought about it--he’d never considered the need for clean-up. “On the desk.”

Jack cleaned his hand off and returned to the bed, sitting again. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “That was...really fucking hot.”

Bitty peeked out from behind the hand he’d thrown over his eyes. “You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.”

Jack reached out and pried Bitty’s hand from his face. “You’re into me jacking you off. You like it. Can you really not see how that works for me?” He raised his eyebrows. “Come on, Bits.”

Bitty smiled, shy. “Yeah, OK.” He licked his lips as he looked down into Jack’s lap. Jack was still fully hard. “You’re patient.”

Jack chuckled. “Usually, yeah. Not that easy at the moment, though.”

“What do you want me to do?” The vulnerability in Bitty’s voice lit something in Jack he couldn’t begin to identify. 

“Whatever you want to do.”

“That’s not helpful, Zimmermann.”

Jack chuckled again. God, it was good, being with someone and having it be like this--not fraught and angry, not soaked with rage and anxiety and liquor, but laughing, fun. “I want your hands. Or your mouth. Or your body against me. I’ll take whatever I can get, and I’ll be really happy about it.”

“I want to…” Bitty swallowed. “I want to suck you off. But you’re going to have to give some...instruction.”

Jack smiled. “I’m your captain, Bittle. I can give instruction.”

It turned out that Jack wasn’t as capable of instruction as he’d assumed. The minute Bitty’s tentative mouth closed around him, he was reduced to mostly choked off noises and babbling Quebecois curses. It was an objectively pretty terrible blow job--too tentative, too slow--but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because Bitty looked up at him with huge brown eyes, waiting to see how he was doing, and the feelings that shot through Jack were more complex and amazing than he could ever describe. It didn’t matter because when Jack leaned back, he was looking at the ceiling of Bitty’s childhood bedroom--he was here, with this amazing man, whom he had almost let slip away. It wasn’t perfect, but it was absolutely right.

In other circumstances, Bitty’s lack of technique might have made it tough to get all the way off. Jack’s anxiety medication made orgasm a bit harder to reach for him than it was for most men his age, and it had happened before that he’d needed his hand to assist a blow-job. That was something kind of unpleasant for both him and his partner, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to worry about it. He didn’t need to worry about it, because no matter how imperfect the suction or the speed, it was Bitty kneeling between his thighs. Bitty’s lips and hands on him. He came very quickly, surprising himself.

Surprising himself, in this case, also meant surprising Bitty. “Oh, fuck, Bitty, I’m…” Jack descended into French, trying to pull his pulsing cock from between Bitty’s lips. It was too late, Bitty was already gagging, shocked and coughing.

“I am so sorry,” Jack said, panting through the last of the orgasm, the pleasure already overtaken by his horror at himself. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t mean not to warn you.”

Bitty’s eyes were watering a bit, and his tongue was chasing errant drops on his lips in a way Jack was absolutely not going to think about right now. He was gorgeous, and, once he got his breath again, he was laughing. “Oh my God, Jack! That was shocking!” He didn’t look angry in the least.

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Jack looked into his lap and silently cursed his traitorous dick.

“Don’t be, honey, it’s fine.” Bitty reached for him without embarrassment. “I am so happy that happened!”

Jack gave him a strange look. “Happy? Why?” He felt a brief spark of panic. Being laughed at never failed to draw that response.

“Because now I don’t feel so bad!” Bitty’s eyes were sparkling. “You may have more experience here than me, but you’re not perfect at this either!”

Looking at that radiant smile, Jack couldn’t help but grin back. “Nope,” he agreed, “definitely not perfect.” He reached forward and pulled Bitty toward him, until he was trapped in the loose cage of Jack’s arms. “Guess we’ll have to practice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on [Tumblr](https://coffeewithconsequences.tumblr.com/) or read the rest of my fic here at [Archive of Our Own](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/works)!


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